Last Train Home
by Doctor Faustus
Summary: The last thoughts of Weiss, as presented through facades, idealism, escapism of reality and death in the final chapters of their lives.


The bright flashes of lights blinded him.

Collectively, the flashes went off again and again until the white spots danced in front of his eyes, and he couldn't see his way well enough to walk ahead. The reporters kept on coming, their questions pouring forth in torrents as they jabbered in shrill voices, probing and digging in with their nailed questions as they sought his views.

He smiled and answered as best as he could, deflecting each query with polite smiles and diplomatic answers, taking care to give each question ample consideration before he replied. He knew himself well enough, to keep his mind trained on the situation before him. If he let himself think of Yuushi's words, there was a good chance that he might start bawling in front of the entire media pack, and all his hard work would have been lost.

-

"_There has yet to be any contact from Weiss since they went on their last mission. They've most likely been annihilated…"_

"_Is that so."_

"_I will prepare the new members for the fifth generation."_

_Her tone was compassionate, even as she gave him the news that he had avoided hearing for as long as he could. He looked out of the car window as he heard her words, taking care to face away from her so that she would not see the tears that threatened to arise inside of him. _

_Somewhere inside of him, Tsukiyino Omi was crying._

_-_

From the start he had known, all of them had. None of them was going to emerge from Weiss unscarred and unbroken. Their pasts held too many secrets, their job bade them slaughter their way through the bodies of the wicked in order to cleanse the world of their evil. But the end held no absolution for any of them; they whose hands had dealt in too much blood.

_Click._

The cameras kept on flashing and Omi wondered idly if the pictures revealed anything more than a pleasant, happy young man who was rapidly rising through the ranks in society. He had barely slept for the past months, often staring up at the stark white ceiling at night, until his eyes hurt and he was forced to blink.

He didn't want to sleep anymore. He was afraid even to close his eyes.

Each restless sleep was punctuated with the laughing faces of his teammates, whilst the uncertainty of their fates bore down closer upon him until he rose again, trembling and hugging himself to stop himself from shaking with the obsession to comb the streets until he found each and every single one of them. The only reason why he had not caved in to the impulse was the possibility that they were alive somewhere and that slight chance gave him the strength to keep on acting every single day.

When he slept, he dreamt of his friends.

He remembered the days where he was known simply as Omi. Back then, the four of them lived in cramped quarters and there were days when they had snapped at each other, stepping on each other's toes, frustrated at being in each others' company for too long. Now, he lived in a lavish house with his own rooms, a computer system that ran at easily twice the speed that he was accustomed to, and he couldn't remember the last time he had bumped into someone else around the house.

He remembered Yohji laughing, a smooth deep rumble that lit up his face and won the girls over with its easy charm. He remembered Ken, who remained the most child-like of all of them, stubborn in his opinions, but loyal to the bone. He remembered Aya, who remained aloof and silent, but secretly protected them and made sure they were safe.

Omi had died with the rest of them. He had christened it as their last mission, the last mission in which he would join them as their friend and teammate. The final course, that would end his life forever as Tsukiyono Omi, forking his life into a new beginning as Takatori Mamoru.

Now, only in his dreams, did he see his friends brought back to life, laughing and joking as they horsed around in the Koneko.

If it was all a dream, he didn't want to wake up anymore.

-

"_I heard you just let the fourth generation Weiss die like they were pawns."_

"_I am the head of the Takatori family. All my men are pawns, serving to protect the Takatori family. If you have any objections, you can leave the Crashers. We have the necessary replacements."_

"_If he had heard what you just said, he would cry."_

_-_

Omi squared his shoulders when he realized that his smile was becoming a little strained around the edges, brightening his smile and waving a little more enthusiastically for the cameras. His heart felt as though it was breaking, but he was the last kitten left that no one had wanted to take home, and he would be strong for the rest of them.

Somewhere out there, they were alive and happy.

Takatori Mamoru would be the strongest and best politician alive, working to sustain the aims of Kritiker for as long as he could, in order not to let them down. They wouldn't ever have to know that he was so scared that he would fail, that he was breaking around the edges. He would be as strong as them, so that they would not be ashamed of him when they saw each other once more. He just wanted them to be so proud of him.

One chance was all he needed. One last chance to live his life around and he would still choose to be Tsukiyono Omi, over and again, he wanted to be Omi and he was Weiss and they would be _together_.

He smiled painfully, closing his eyes against the glaring white light forever.


End file.
